


The thrill of it all

by samrocha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Multi, References to Supernatural (TV), Sick Dean Winchester, destiel thirty days of prayer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samrocha/pseuds/samrocha
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	1. Day #1: The first prayer

Dean opened his eyes that Friday morning, it was an automatic gesture. For five seconds he felt nothing until a weight took over his stomach and even lying down he could feel his stomach drop to his feet.

He closed his eyes tightly, but the feeling only got worse and worse. He clenched his fists against his closed eyes so hard he could feel death. And in that moment when he felt that old sensation of death, his stomach came running back to the place where belongs. He got up from the bed running and threw up in the sink.

He was hunched over the sink, his body trying so hard to put everything out. To put what? he hadn't eaten since, hadn't drunk, his stomach was empty like never before, but it was full and somehow his body understood that it needed to put something out.

And that something was Cas's death. Dean's body needed to put out everything Cas told him the night before. Word by word. Letter by letter. The fury of the moment, the death of his best friend, the hatred for chuck, it was all too much, there was no space inside him.

He raised his head and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes was so deep and red. So many hours of crying that he barely remember how he fell asleep.

The green eyes seemed to have lost their vivid color. He didn't remember how he got to the bunker after meeting Sam and Jack, affter…

He was still wearing the green jacket. When Dean thought about looking at Cas's bloody handprint on his shoulder the nausea came again.

He didn't throw up. He had no strength. Dean just staggered back to bed. If the void existed, it was inside him now.

In that moment, the only thing dean could thought about was Cas. The words he said to him. He touch the mark of Cas's bloody handprint on his jack. At this moment Dean put himself on knees and prayed to Cas.

Cas, –he said

i don't know what to say right know, i hope you can listen. I hope more then everything for you to listen. I can't stop thinking about you, about what you said to me. You didn't get me the chance to say it back. H- how c- could… how could you?

tears falling down free thru his eyes.

I feel so empty, without you here. There's nothing left for me if you ain't here. Nothing makes sense anymore and its only the #1 day. How can I survive at this. How can i keep myself alive if you're not here?  
tell me please...

Hope you can hear me, cas… with love and pain, dean.

Dean didn't know how time it was. How many minutes he interrupt himself in the middle of the pray to cry. Dean was full of despair and hopeless. When he said that he was hoping cas was hearing him, he as begging for hope. He begged cas for hope. Cas was the only hope he ever knew, and now he lose. Dean didn't got back to the bad. He fell down miserable on the floor where his knees was, and fell asleep again.


	2. Day #2 part I: Memories

Sam hadn't slept well in days. Since Chuck started to surround them, the hunter no longer knew what a good night's sleep was. Sam and Eileen had been talking for days about her spending a few days in the bunker until everything was definitely settled. Eileen didn't think it was a good idea. She had already left the bunker once and didn't want to go back again, not under those conditions. But she understood that things were worse now and tended to end in disgrace in every way possible.

When Sam facetime her, asking Eileen to come over he was scared. Afraid to lose her again, and when she refused he get desperate. They changed the subject, he didn't want to insist, he didn't want to go beyond the limits of Eileen's spaces. She said she was fine, that she knew how to take care of herself and that was what he clung to with all his strength. They continued to exchange messages for several late nights. They suffered because they were apart and couldn't ve able to see each other that much, the cell phone and the messages saved them.

The day before everything happened, the day before chuck decided to erase everyone, the day before Sam lost Eileen, the day before they last exchanged messages, at the day, the day before, she texted him at three in the morning.

Sam was awake as usual. He left the room, the phone was in the pocket of his light blue sweatpants. Sam walked into the kitchen, his head so full that he couldn't even concentrate on anything, he didn't even notice when he arrived in the kitchen and kept walking.

Castiel and Dean were sitting at the kitchen table. Dean wore his usual gray hob partially covering his hot dog pijamas. Cas noticed Sam's lost look when he entered the kitchen. Dean was too distracted sipping the almost cold coffee from the cup as he fiddled with his cell phone looking for something funny to make Castiel smile.

A few moments before he had gone into the next bedroom, which Castiel used to spend the long eternal nights of listening to Dean sleep. Watching his sleep carefully and when the hunter screamed absorbed in nightmares, the angel would quietly enter the room and calm his turbulent mind by freeing him from those horrible dreams. Cas did this more often than he would have liked, but he didn't mind, he liked to listen and watch Dean sleeping. The angel's heart always calmed when he spent a few minutes there in Dean's room watching him sleep. A peaceful smile always formed on his lips, although he didn't realize it.

That night, the night before everything happened, the night before he allowed himself to be happy, the night before he last saved the love of his life. That night, the night before I said goodbye to Dean for the last time. That night, one last time Dean entered Castiel's room without knocking.

He didn't hear Dean arrive, he was absorbed in his thoughts as he let some music play on the headphones. So much going on, so much to fix, to solve. The end of the world was literally happening and no solution seemed to work, nothing seemed to be able to solve it.

Castiel had his eyes closed lying on the bed with his arms crossed under his head. He didn't wear the suit and trenchocoat. Dean had filled a box with clothes some time ago and left it there for him to use on quiet days and movie nights, the ones when they all got together in the deancave, Sam, Eileen, Jack, Dean and Cas. Or even just the two of them. Something that happened very often. That night, for the last time Cas wore a brown AcDc shirt, sweatpants and socks.

"I'm on the Highway to Hell too" Dean said smiling as he opened the door and saw Cas lying on using the shirt, but Castiel didn't listen, he continued with his eyes closed and his arms still over his eyes. Dean soon realized that Cas was distracted. It was usually something that never happened. Castiel never seemed to be distracted or with his head away. And when in the rare times this happened, when he heard Dean's voice suddenly took him out of the sinking of his thoughts he always got agitated.

But that night was different. Dean entered on the room. It was after two in the morning. It even crossed Dean's mind that Cas was asleep, but he soon dismissed the absurd idea, Castiel never slept. He didn't have to. "He's an angel, your idiot" he repeated to himself as he walked slowly around the room to sit on the wooden chair beside the bed. Dean's thoughts were very troubled by everything that was going on, but the fact that Castiel didn't notice his presence made his mind go blank for a moment in order to focus on a single detail:

Castiel.

Part of him knew that the angel was all right, but part of him, a large part, part of which he was trying to stifle was concerned about him, his best friend ... He sat there for a few minutes. Long minutes watching Castiel lying still on the bed. Everything was so quiet that the only thing that could be heard inside that room was the sound of Dean and Castiel's breaths mixed with the beat of quiet music that escaped the angel's headphones.

To say the minutes Dean spent sitting there watching Castiel closely, following the movement of his slow, controlled breathing would be impossible. For Dean, it was like that moment was a little piece of eternity. He could stay there for days and days and never tire. How he loved looking at Castiel, silently and discreetly, but he almost never managed to do that without looking weird. No, that someone was around.

How many times did he think of telling Castiel everything he felt. How many times has he secretly loved him. In a deadly and immortal silence. Deadly because it killed him. It shattered it from the inside like a thousand razors slicing it from inside out, and immortal because it never seemed to end. How many times his eyes loved him sad to know that all he wanted was something he could never have.

How many times did he think Cas was different and that, perhaps in a million years, he could feel something too. The Eternity passed to Dean without he even notice, and how many times he smiled sitting there imagining him and Cas living a life together after all this, a retirement, a normal job. They would never be normal, he knew. But with Castiel beside him, he could not even see a future of wars and battles, but a peaceful future. A future of love. A normal future.

Castiel cleared his throat, pulling Dean out of his personal moment of eternity. The hunter broadened the silly smile that was stuck in the corner of his lips, to a wide smile that left all his teeth on display. Cas noticed Dean's presence in the same second it took to clear his throat. He sat on the bed in a hurry and ripped off the earphones then

"Dean!" he spoke almost breathlessly, his voice deep as usual but failing. He cleared his throat again  
“Watching you sleep, it's tye most interesting thing that I've seen, and look, I've seen a lot. Did you know that you speak in your sleep? ” Dean spoke up from the chair he was sitting on. His voice was playful. He had said that to wake up castiel, and take the angel out of time and not look like a crazyman who keeps an eye on the sleep of others.

"I don't… you know I don't sleep. I didn't hear you coming, this is kind of weird, really. How long have you been here?  
Castiel put his feet on the floor but Dean was already at the door waiting for him.  
"Not much" He hesitated when he answered the angel's question and quickly walked towards the door still speaking  
“I couldn't sleep, I came to ask you for coffee or something in the kitchen, but I got here and you were snoring. So, are you coming or are you going to continue sleeping? ”

"I'll go with you"

"Uh, sam?" "He can't sleep either" the angel said to Dean but without taking his eyes off Sam.  
"coffee?" Dean asked, lifting the cup towards his brother.  
"Something stronger looks like it would be welcome," Sam replied as he reached into his pocket to touch his cell phone.

Cas immediately rested his hands on the table with the intention of getting up and going to the cabinet to get the whiskey for sam. Before he could get up completely, Dean touched the angel's hand and motioned for him to remain seated. Castiel's eyes were tender at that moment of touch. He sat down, but then looked at Sam who had already taken the drink out of the cupboard and was helping himself.

The three were silent for a long time. Sam leaning against the counter looking away and Cas and Dean sitting facing each other. While Dean stared at his hands holding the cup of coffee extremely distracted and absorbed in thought, Castiel looked at him with concern and an unbridled dose of sadness that ripped him apart every time he looked at Dean. So beautiful sitting there, so distracted and stupid, so worried and yet so beautiful.

Nothing has ever hurt so much in castiel as loving Dean. He knew, he always knew. The moment he got his hands on Dean in hell he was lost, that was his downfall. But falling didn't hurt, falling in love with Dean didn't hurt. What hurt was to love him in secret. Cas wanted to love Dean in bold letters. He wanted to fill the bunker with flowers or with those bad beers that Dean likes. He wanted to take him to fly and watch the stars up close. He wanted to cook a thousand cherry pies just to see him smile and at the end of the day lie down next to Dean and love him as he deserved to be loved. But knowing that he could never want to glimpse the mere possibility of that life, killed him.

Dean was leaning against the refrigerator remembering that night, the 4th of November, he was so lost, so deep in those memories that he didn't notice when Jack entered the kitchen. The boy raised his right hand to greet Dean. Jack was dejected, with dark circles around his eyes looking back from a night's sleep that didn't exist.  
Dean responded by raising his eyebrows. The hunter patted Jack on the shoulder as he left the kitchen. Before Dean walked away, Jack called him.

“Dean, I, um… I've been calling him, I've been praying for Castiel, but he's… it's useless isn't it? I'm sorry, this is my fault if wasn't for me he would be still here… ”

Dean didn't let Jack finish talking and went back to hug the boy. He didn't say anything. He didn't have the courage. He didn't even dare think about everything Castiel had said two nights ago. Dean wept silently, tears so quiet that even Chuck wouldn't be able to hear them.

“Don't blame yourself, Jack. It's not your fault, he loved you. He chose you as a son, any of us would have done the same for you because you are family. It's hard to forget, but don't blame yourself okay? Eat candy, fill yourself with crap, be sad, suffer, but suffer without guilt. He was happy to love you too, to make you a member of the family, ” 

he said at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey thank you for read! I know I took so long to release my second chapter and i didn't even finish. Those past months was so crazy. I'll won't promise to bring the PART II next week, but who knows?
> 
> You can finder me on my social media  
> @iprayedtoyoucaseverynight


	3. Day #2 part II: The Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thru his memories Dean winchester remember the days before Castiel die. The memories if those moments are like a comfort to him, Dean who now it's empty it's been trying so hard survive without Cas. He can't even think about the empty world, the only thing Dean think about it's Cas. The look they always shared, the talks. Dean pray to Cas every sigle day keeping the si gle light of his faith, of his hope on the tiny possibility of the angel hear your desperate and prayers of love.

Dean didn't go back to his room, he didn't want to pass down the hall. He didn't want to stay at home, but he we can do, if they couldn't leave? He had nowhere to go. There was no one in the world but him and Sam and Jack. He didn't think about Chuck, he didn't think about Sam, Jack, the friends they had lost. Dean was empty, it was as if the world now without souls, with no one but the three of them, echoed inside him.

Dean Winchester was empty. Empty as the world. Empty as hell. Empty as the heaven. And empty Dean walked through the bunker, his steps weighed tons he felt empty and heavy, as it was heavy to be empty. He didn't understand that feeling. How could anyone be full of nothing and feel weigh like that?  
Dean went to the garage but didn't get close to the impala ,he stared at the car from a distance.

"Do you think we're going to make it?" he heard Castiel's voice so clear he was even startled. The memory was so vivid that Dean thought he was delirious.  
"I hope so, fate is coming,Cas ... I feel it. It’s Do or die, but I am glad that we are together in this”

He said the last sentence taking his eyes off the road and placing them on Castiel. The eyes met. Castiel had a giant regret in his eyes, but those blue eyes like the sky on a summer day hugged Dean.  
Dean smiled awkwardly. He noticed the sadness in the angel's eyes. Of course he did, but he felt comforted in some way, and that comfort was what made him smile. The feelings were always so confused when Cas looked at him like that, as if he always had something to say, as if he wanted to say something with those eyes, but Dean never knew how to decipher it. And God, how he tried.

Sam was in the room searching Eileen's cell phone, he hadn't been able to drop the phone since he found it on the floor in front of the huntress's house. He would never forgive himself for being too late.

Two days passed and all Sam felt was a great numbness that extended throughout his body. He hadn't cried yet. I hadn't eaten or wanted to drink water. The tightness in his throat almost preventing him from breathing was what made him know he was still alive.

Sam Winchester read all the messages on Eileen's cell that afternoon. From the first they exchanged until the last, and as he advanced the dates of the messages exchanged approaching the last, the lump in his throat suffocated him. He finally got out of bed and decided to go after his brother, who knows, maybe a conversation.

Sam knew Dean was destroyed, he heard his brother's screams in the middle of the night calling for Castiel. The power of Dean's screams was so strong, so loud that Sam was startled and twice got up running from the bed towards the older brother's room, but he never got in, he never got close to the door. The screaming stopped before he could take any initiative, but he got close enough to the bedroom door to hear Dean's cry of despair.

Sam wincherter walked through the bunker that evening. He opened the door to Jack's room and found the boy asleep. Sam continued walking in the deepest silence, the silence of the world was his and now he carried it.

Sam had a cry in his chest waiting for something to break free and run furiously through his eyes.

There was a scream stuck in his chest. Trapped by the rage that his body could not understand. Waiting for something to break free and echo warm by scratching and releasing the lump in the throat.

Sam had a pain stuck in his chest. Latent and restless, hidden behind the scream and glued to the cry. Waiting for something that makes sense so that it can show itself and flow through the rest of your body.

There is a cry, a scream and a pain stuck in Sam's chest that he in his highest numbness does not know how to understand them and does not know how to release them. For now, he let them be locked inside him as he walks, while the days go by, he leaves. He allows himself to be all locked up. The cry, the cry and the pain inside him, and he inside them.

He doesn't find his brother, he doesn't look right, he feels too exhausted and the bunker looks giant to anyone who's been chained to as many feelings as he is. It's tiring. Once again in the kitchen. The kitchen works as a place of comfort, it is where they keep their drinks, where they smiled so often. The moments of happiness were so rare. Something was always going on. Always someone to save, always a problem to solve. But it was there at that table where they ate on normal days, when Sam made the coffee too weak and Dean always complained. It was where Cas always refused the beer that Dean offered and yet Dean insisted on bringing him one, and he always drank after refusing it. It was there that Sam and Dean found Jack again after he recovered his soul, it was there that Jack crying asked for forgiveness and it was there that he was forgiven.

It was there in that kitchen that they so often made peace after a disagreement. Leaning on the counter while pouring a glass almost full of whiskey in an attempt to loosen the tight lump in the throat that Sam Winchester cried for the first time after Eileen was erased. He barely felt the hot tear burning down his face, he thought it was the effect of the alcohol. He closed his eyes as the whiskey slid smoothly into his body, it was as if the drink acted like the key to a portal freeing Sam from the prison he was feeling.  
He screamed. The scream had been so powerful that it could be heard by any soul who was miles away from the Bunker, if there were souls in the world. Sam shouted anger, hatred, crying, miss them, sadness and despair; and then when the scream died, his body fell to the floor. There was no more numbness, he felt, he felt everything. Unlike the brother there was no place for emptiness in Sam, he was full to the brim and overflowing.

Before hearing Sam's scream, Dean climbed onto the roof of the Bunker. He wanted to watch the sun go down. When he looked at his watch and saw that the moment was approaching, he cannot help remembering that a few years ago while they were returning to the bunker, Castiel, who was driving the Impala, stopped the car next to a cliff and left without saying a word. It was late summer 2018 on any Tuesday. The sun was setting, Dean liked to watch the stars and had never paid attention to the beauty of the king star leaving, and that moment, my God, that moment was a one-off show. The sun's rays colored the sky in orange and pink tones, the clouds were bluish and scattered, in the space between the cliff and the nothingness the birds sang as if they were happy for that moment.

"Incredible," Dean murmured with perplexity in his voice as he approached the edge of the cliff.  
Castiel remained silent, the hairs on his arms stood on end constantly. The song of the birds louder and louder lulled the soundtrack of that moment and then Castiel showed his wings, not their shadow. It was beautiful, incredible, Dean was startled to notice the angel's wings, it was not a common scene, the only time Dean remembers seeing the wings was also the first day he saw Castiel. But all he could see that day were the shadows of the wings. That Tuesday was different, Castiel's wings were palpable and shone with the colors of the sun reflected in. In the face of Castiel, who now had his eyes closed, shy of showing his wings, a rainbow was forming and spreading over the wings.

Castiel's wings were not white or black, very bright and full of color. The colors were not dark, on the contrary, the blue that composed the feathers was the same shade as his eyes and the green that extended under the blue feathers was exactly the same color as Dean Winchester's Eyes. The wings also carried the exact color of the trenchcoat that the angel wore and the color of the tie he use to wore too. The colors of Castiel's wings told the stories of his long life for all the millennia, now, however, the colors that stood out told his story with the hunter. Dean didn't notice that the color tone of Cas's wings said those things, but what he noticed that afternoon never left his memories. The color of the sky that afternoon stuck in Castiel's wings. It was as if by spreading his wings in a timid gesture he had stolen the beauty of the sky for them.

They stayed there in silence until the night was fully settled. They never brought it up again. Castiel showed his colors to Dean and Dean kept the colors inside him.

Four folding chairs always stayed on the roof of the bunker. Sometimes the four liked to stay up there, almost never to watch the sun go down. Often to have a beer on sleepless, hot summer nights. Sam, for example, liked to go upstairs to read and when Eilleen was home they both went up on the roof to talk, look at the stars and practice sign language. Cas, when Dean had a quiet night of sleep, he used to spend the late nights on the roof listening to music, he was a big Sam Smith fan. He had heard one day on the radio driving home with Jack. The two loved it and started listening whenever they traveled together. Cas listened beyond the car trips with Jack and felt that Sam Smith described some of his most untouchable feelings. He never let Dean know, so when he asked, he always said he was listening to Zep or any classic rock band. Dean didn't like to go to the roof very much, he preferred to stay at Deancave in his spare time, but that afternoon he wanted to go up, felt the need to watch the sun go down and wanted to remember that Tuesday. Maybe the sky was the same color.

The metal chair creaked when Dean sat, if the floor wasn't concrete it would have sunk under the weight of the empty Dean was carrying inside. The sky was clear; shy blue and oranges painted the immensity, nothing that compared to that Tuesday's sky. But it made sense, Dean thought. There was no reason for a spectacle of nature that no one could see, and if he hadn't climbed onto the roof that afternoon, no one would have ever watched the sun saying goodbye on that horrible Saturday. Chuck should be resting, isn't that what God did on the seventh day? If he rested on the first seventh day, he is likely to follow that habit, that devotion to the seventh day through the millennia. Dean wished that nothing existed, that he did not exist, that Chuck did not exist. He wished with his eyes closed as the last rays of sunlight reflected on the freckles on his face, that everything would be different.

An almost full bottle of white wine rested on the wooden center they had taken up there the second time they were all together. The wine had been there since the two made up, since Dean kneeling in purgatory prayed for Castiel and for one last time the angel was able to hear him. They celebrated, they didn't know what. Reconciliation, for sure, but they did not speak that word, they did not touch on that subject. They knew they had something to celebrate and that was what they did. Dean reached over and picked up the bottle of Chardonney. It was an expensive wine, from the year 2006, creamy, silky and vibrant. Dean knew all about that bottle of wine, it was Castiel's favorite. He knew that the wine was exclusive and awarded, he knew that the wine had been made with grapes from a single vineyard in Agliano Terme. and aged for 20 months in French oak barrels. It was the only drink that Castiel drank with pleasure in his eyes and not for convenience and custom like beers and whiskey.

He took the cork out of the bottle and took a sip. Creamy. Silky. Vibrant. Dean winchester's eyes spilled as he swallowed the smoothness of that wine. He didn't bother, he let his eyes become a bowl and silently took another sip. This time the flavor changed, there was salt in the middle, the salt of tears, the salt of loneliness, the salt of emptiness. He prayed once again.

Cas, hi .. The sun is setting and you are not here. I am sitting watching the bright orange sky fade. I'm having a glass of your favorite wine, the expensive one I bought the other day at a liquor store when we, you know ... when we got back from purgatory. Every sip is a memory, Cas! Of you, of us, of what we could have been. What we live for. Of our goodbyes, of our reunions. From our apocalypses. I am an observer. You went away. I watched you go. My cell phone is full of photographic memories. That I've been looking at for the past few days. The sun has already left, there is no moon today and I am watching, it is everything I do, everything I can do. The only thing I have from your left are those memories, biting me like a hundred insects. You left me once again and i dont know if i can't take this… he stopped for a momen to take another sip. The wine bottle is half full. I drink the memories again to keep them alive inside me. The wine is gone. You too ... Dean took a deep breath, drank the wine so fast he didn't even notice. Tears still welling out of those green eyes. I drank the sun, the lack of the moon, I drank you. Your lack. Maybe it's my cue to move on. Maybe not. I do not know yet. Your lack is all I know now, it is all I am now. It's all I feel. I'm scared, I miss you. Deep down, I feel that you are listening to me, but I do not know if it is the echo of the emptiness I carry in me or hope, or really you. I don't know ... Cas, baby! I hope you can hear me, I hope.

Dean rubbed the back of his right hand over his face but the tears continued to fall. He heard Sam Winchester scream from the kitchen. He was not frightened, he knew what it was, he knew how his brother must have been feeling, he thought, that if the scream didn't stop he would run. But what could happen at that time. The scream stopped. The sky was dark. Dean closed his eyes and dreamed of Castiel that Tuesday afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeey, thank you for reading again! I appreciate every of you, i swear. It's been a huge week, my laptop broke so I'm writing on my cellphone. I don't know if you notice but I'm building a 30 days of Dean praying to cas, til we got cad back from empty and make them grown old together. So I'll bring these types if memories of Dean with cas to build the story. Thank you so much for reading 💖💖

**Author's Note:**

> Helo, this would be a fix-fic for the last three episodes. I'll try to bring everyone back for a happy ending. But first there's a little pain. Also i'm planning to post this same fic in portuguese my birth language. Hope you guys liked.  
> p.s: a new chapter update every Saturday. You can finde me at @iprayedtoyoucaseverynight on instagram. See ya


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